


Alcoholic

by SuperFluffyWolf



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Not Beta Read, Underage Drinking, could be incest, not sure yet - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 18:43:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13530294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperFluffyWolf/pseuds/SuperFluffyWolf
Summary: It runs in the family.





	Alcoholic

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't been in this fandom for a while so I figured I'd post something! Hope you all enjoy it and feel free to drop me some ideas on my tumblr (linked in the after story notes)

It started off small, the small bottles parents put in the freezer for special occasions. Morty had grown interested in drinking since a bad fit of depression hit him. If his mom and her dad drank all the time, it must not be too bad, right?

By the time Jerry had started to notice the missing bottles (that quite frankly were just building up in there, those ‘special occasions’ never actually happening) Morty was thoroughly hooked. Of course, Rick was the first accused, but Morty quickly stated he’d thrown them out since they were going on two years old. He pointedly ignored the suspicious look Rick gave him at just how fast he’d come to his aid.

Morty had his stash now, leaning close to eighteen (which he found ironic as it was his age) hidden in a panel in his closet. It wasn’t obvious and you had to pull back a bit of carpet to even find it. He held a small one-off of Fireball in his hand, looking up at his ceiling as he took small sips. He didn’t have a very low tolerance anymore, which he was less than thankful for.

He drank with purpose; Morty wanted to forget how to feel like Rick did. He hated that no matter what those feelings and memories would come back. The same feelings he’d been trying desperately push down and make them vanish into the pits of hell where they belonged. His incestuous love for Rick.

Morty knew better, but nothing else even helped dull the feelings. He’d tried smoking pot, but that just made him not care and laugh at the mere thought of someone finding out, though it did help him sleep better than alcohol. Morty chose to drink because it made him numb, even just briefly.

Before he knew it, he’d emptied the bottle and was un screwing a secondary bottle that had laid in waiting on his bedside stand. He wasn’t a stupid 14-year-old anymore; he put the empty bottles into his bedside stand, emptying it out once a week. It was just about that time now.

Recently, Morty had been getting sloppy in his attempt to hide his addiction, Jerry commenting to him that he needed to stay away from Rick because he was beginning to reek of booze. Rick had growled out some type of insult at Jerry in his own defense.

Which Morty understood fully not wanting to be blamed for something that couldn’t possibly be your fault. Ever since Rick had found out how to _properly_ transfer himself into a younger body without fear of dying, the older man had cut back a lot on drinking.

This only added to Morty’s problem, however. Old Rick was wise, rude, gassy and over all just an asshole. This younger Rick though… He wasn’t constantly drunk, so he was much kinder, even going so far as to praise Morty or teach him without a backhanded comment afterwards. Rick would even go on short runs with Morty to exploit his new body to the thrill of light adrenaline.

During these runs, all Morty could do was speak absently with the older man while thinking about those gorgeously long, slender legs. Oddly hairless and toned. The days they would run were days that Morty would get smashed, locking himself in for the night.

This night was just terrible for him. Rick had been out on his own adventure, on Earth this time, simply selling a few organs of some criminals on the black market, but something (of course) went wrong and Morty had to help him get patched up. The younger of the two had once considered going into nursing due to his experience on the field.

As Morty lifted the bottle up to his lips, a knocking came from his door. He capped the drink, tossing it under his pillow, walking over and unlocking the door, cracking it open enough just for his eye to be seen.

“…” He was silent at first, looking at this godly attractive version of his grandfather. He didn’t know what to do most of the time, but he simply snorted at seeing him here, the warmth of the whiskey boosting his growing confidence. “What do you want Rick?”

“Look, kiddo. We need to tal—“ Rick’s brows furrowed. “…Are you drinking?” Even though they were the same height now, the accusation made Morty feel tiny, like Rick was once again towering over him. With no other words, Rick pushed his way in, closing and locking the door behind him.

“I’m not gonna fuckin’ ask again, Morty. Are you drinking?” His voice was low, but stern. Rick was forcing Morty’s hands and the younger’s eyes narrowed sharply and hardened.

“Or what? You’ll tell my parents? Even if I was, what would you do? Huh, _Rick_?” The teen hissed out. “If I was, what could you possibly do to me that you didn’t do over the years we’ve known each other? You gonna ridicule me? Hit me? Abandon me? What’s it gonna be Rick?”

Rick was taken aback. What was even happening? Had he really been _that_ cruel to Morty over the years? He hadn’t thought so. “…Who even _are_ you anymore Morty?” He asked in a hushed voice, staring at the brown-haired young man.

“Well, I may not know who I am… but I know I’m not that scared little shit you took on adventures anymore.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Rick snorted, pushing Morty’s shoulder, making the younger stumble back onto the bed, moving his pillow and revealing his small helping of Fireball. Rick wasted no time in snatching it up.

“How long have you been drinking, Morty?” Rick was done playing around. He didn’t want Morty to end up like he had with no miraculous intelligence to fall back on. Morty had a good chance at a normal life and he was already drinking it away.

“Over a year.” It was a simple statement, giving no more and no less then what was asked.

“You can have a good life, ya know? You don’t have to walk down this path that I did. Be better, Morty. Don’t fuck it up.” Rick pocketed the booze earning a growl from Morty who hadn’t moved from the bed.

“Yeah. The same life you lead, the one Mom and Dad are leading. Great. I’ll get married, have two kids and realize how shitty of a marriage I have and start drinking then. Hey, maybe I’ll even start suicide attempts again.” Dark eyes were clouded with anger, not even realizing what he’d admitted to his grandpa.

“What do you mean ‘ _again_ ’, Morty?”

Oh shit.

Morty’s eyes went wide, his mouth left hanging open about an inch. When Rick received no answer, he walked forward and grabbed Morty’s face, slightly roughly. His fingers on one cheek, curling down and around his jaw, leaving his thumb pressed tightly on the opposing cheek.

“You’ve tried to kill yourself?” Rick was furious; whether it was at himself for not knowing earlier, or at Morty for actually attempting to take away such a precious human being.

Morty wrenched himself free from Rick’s grasp, leaving small red marks on his face from the pressure.

“Yes! I did! I tried to kill myself! It’s not like anyone would _miss_ me once I was gone! You’ve even said as much, Rick. Maybe then the fucking family will have something to fucking bond over. Maybe Dad will stop being such a pussy and maybe Mom will stop being an alcoholic! Maybe it’ll force Summer to put her fucking phone down. Maybe…” He took a long shaky breath. “Maybe it’ll make these goddamn feelings go away permanently. I… I can’t stand it.”

Morty curled up a little, leaning his back against the closest wall, his knees to his chest and his face in his hands. He wasn’t sad, just frustrated and angry. “I hate wanting something I can never have. I fucking hate all of this. It’s not like I have anything anyway.” He gripped at the brown waves his hair had grown into, long since maturing from his early teen curls.

“I’m pretty fucking average in looks, I’m rail thin, I have fucking lower than average intelligences and the attention span of a fucking goldfish. Tell me what kind of fucking ‘good life’ I can lead, since you have all the fucking answers, Rick.”

Once again, Rick was floored by the thoughts Morty had been having. How had he missed so much happening with Morty? How had this gone on for _over a year_? How had he been so damn blind?

“…Why didn’t you come to me, Morty?”

“I _tried_. I came to talk to you when everyone else was gone, you said you were ‘too busy to deal with the hormonal emotions of some stupid ass kid’.”

Rick recalled this memory and almost threw up with the knot that immediately assaulted his body. That was almost _three_ years ago. Had the kid really been suffering through this that long? No wonder the kid stopped wanting to go on adventures with the old prick.

“Morty, I—“

“Don’t dare start _pretending_ that you care all of a sudden. Just do what you always do and pretend there isn’t some stupid fucking problem. Go work on something scientific. I don’t fucking care anymore.”

Rick had enough. He reached into his lab coat and pulled out a gun Morty had never seen before. The fact that he didn’t flinch sat grossly in Rick’s mind, reminding him that this was _expected_ in Morty’s mind. “For what it’s worth, Morty. I’m sorry.” He pulled the trigger.

Morty fell back against the wall, placed into a scientific coma and to be awoken when Rick found out what the source of inner pain was for Morty.

Rick placed his dream device in Morty’s ear before putting one in his own, promptly falling into Morty’s dream.

**Author's Note:**

> Send me story ideas: https://superfluffywolf.tumblr.com/
> 
> Maybe leave a comment down below! Thank you all so much for taking time to read this!


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